Not My Family
by Ducky27
Summary: Draco comes home from Hogwarts to find that his mother has commited suicide. The only family that will take him is the...Weasley's. Now he had to learn to get along with them! Warning, some self-harm issues
1. Lost

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing at all. Well, there are a few original characters, but other than them I own nothing. Nothing at all.  
  
Lost   
  
Summer holidays. For most teenagers this is a holy time, and there are very few ways it can be ruined. But there are a few. If you attend a boarding school, summer holidays can be ruined if you're returning to a family you can't stand. They can also be ruined if you don't have a family to return to.  
  
Draco Malfoy sat stiffly in the back of a Muggle car, his Potions Teacher and Head Of house, Severus Snape sat next to him, looking equally uncomfortable.  
  
"Tell me what happened." Draco said quietly. He had got off the Hogwarts Express as normal, but instead of finding his mother waiting for him, he had found Snape instead.  
  
"About an hour after you left, we received an owl from your house keeper." Snape told him, "Your mother...she's dead Mr Malfoy, I'm sorry."  
  
"How." Draco asked hollowly.  
  
"Suicide." He told the boy. "There's no doubt about it."  
  
"Will I go back to the Manor?"  
  
"No. We have been trying to locate a family member but..."  
  
"None will take me." Draco nodded. The Malfoy's lived in France, and most of his mother's family were in Azkaban, "I understand. Where will I go?"  
  
"I have asked the Ministry if I can be given legal guardianship over you, they are considering it, but I believe they will turn me down." Snape told him.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I am your teacher, as well as your Head of House." He explained gravely, "They believe that it would...complicate matters. There is a family that they are looking into, it looks quite likely that you will go there, despite my objections."  
  
"Objections?" Draco sounded startled, "Who is it?"  
  
"The Weasley's." Snape replied.  
  
"I won't go." He said immediately, "How could anyone even think...how could they afford another child? And shouldn't the fact that I'm an only child factor into it? I wouldn't know how to act with siblings. I won't go."  
  
"If the Ministry appoint Arthur and Molly as your guardians, you won't have any choice." He sighed, "The Weasley's are doing well for themselves, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes is said to be quite popular, and as they have less children to provide for...besides, if they get guardianship over you, they will receive money from the Ministry in order to provide for you."  
  
"That's why they're doing it!" Draco exclaimed, "They want the money! I bet they'll lock me up in a basement and feet me leftovers."  
  
"There will, of course, be a Ministry Worker coming to visit you regularly to make sure that you're happy and being well looked after." Snape ignored Draco's comment, "And as you are the soul recipient of your parent's funds, you will not be living in squalor."  
  
"I've got all my parents money." The boy repeated, "I could buy my own house, why do I need to move in with the Weasley's?"  
  
"You won't receive full access to that money until you are of age." The Potions Master explained, "Until then you will receive a monthly allowance."  
  
"I bet the Weasley's hate being lumbered with me." Draco said.  
  
"They requested it, just as I did." Snape assured him.  
  
"Well, it might not even matter. They might decide that I'd do better living with you."  
  
"Please tell me you're joking." Ron whispered, looking ashen.  
  
"No, we're not." Arthur Weasley said.  
  
"Dad!" Ginny almost shouted, "How can you? After what his father did? After everything he's done?"  
  
"Draco isn't responsible for his father's actions." Arthur reminded them, "And I know you don't exactly get on well at school, but apart from trying to get you to loose some house points, and the occasional jinxing, has he ever done anything truly terrible?"  
  
"He worked for Umbridge!" Ron exclaimed, "He's been trying to get me, Harry and Hermione expelled for years! He's practically got 'Junior Death Eater' written all over him!"  
  
"And wouldn't it be nice if we were able to change him?" Molly cut in, she had been silent since the beginning of the conversation, "Besides, with his Father in Azkaban, and his Mother dead, I doubt being a Death Eater looks very appealing to him at the moment. I very much doubt that boy has ever had a good family environment, maybe that's all that it'll take to bring out the good in him."  
  
"I doubt it." Ginny snapped, "He's just like his father, and I won't ever accept him as family."  
  
"It's not even confirmed yet." Arthur told them, "For the moment he's staying at the leaky Cauldron, where he'll be looked after by Tom. We'll know in a few days time. If we do get guardianship, he'll only be obliged to stay here until he's of age, and then, if he chooses, he can leave. Most the time you'll all be in school, so it won't even matter."  
  
"How will I face the other Gryffindor's if they find out that Malfoy is my foster brother?" Ron asked.  
  
"Stop thinking about yourself Ron." Molly scolded, "That poor boy's father is in prison, and he has just lost his mother. I can't imagine what sort of pain he's in."  
  
Draco lay down on the bad and stared up into the ceiling, trying to make sense of the feelings that were filling up inside him. His father was in prison, and was not supposed to come out for a very long time, that he knew. It didn't matter; he'd break out in a little while. But his mother was dead, that was harder to accept. And for it to be suicide, that was worse. You couldn't seek revenge for suicide.  
  
He wasn't used to being sad. He knew fear, he knew fear very well, and he knew anger and frustration. But not sadness, he'd never really been sad.  
  
Standing up, he walked over to the mirror and peered at his reflection.  
  
"You could cry." It said, obviously trying to be helpful.  
  
"I will not cry." He growled, "I'm not a child, and I do not like that my fate is in the hands of adults I don't know."  
  
"I was only suggesting..." But he cut it off.  
  
"Don't talk to me." He snapped, picking up an empty vase from the mantle piece.  
  
"But..."  
  
"Don't talk to me!" He hurled the vase at the mirror, shattering it into a thousand shards. One large shard landed near him, and he sat down and picked it up, looking at its sharp point. Without knowing why he brought the edge to his arm and cut along gently, watching the blood well up. Only then did he cry.  
  
"This is very decent of you Arthur." Odo Lombard, Minister for the Care of Minors, said, "I can't think of many who'd be willing to take on the son of Lucius Malfoy. In fact, I was rather surprised, what with you relationship with him not being too good."  
  
They were sat at the table in the Burrow's kitchen, both sipping the tea that Molly had made for them.  
  
"Well, neither Molly nor I could really stand the idea of him going into care, he wouldn't know how to cope." Arthur explained, "I mean, this isn't what he'd be used to either, but at least he could have some sort of normal life, right?"  
  
"That's what we're hoping for, yes." Lombard nodded, "Um, I hope this isn't...I mean...your not doing this as a sort of revenge, are you?"  
  
"Odo, please." The red haired man looked shocked, "I dislike Lucius Malfoy greatly, yes, but I have nothing against his son. You know me, would I ever do anything that would be against a child's best interest."  
  
"Of course, of course." He nodded, "I had to ask, as it was seen as an issue, but I'll assure everyone that there is no need to worry. One more thing...Draco isn't very fond of Muggles. What with your line of work being..."  
  
"I don't think any of my children are as interested in Muggles as me." Arthur laughed, "I won't try to impose any of my beliefs on the boy. Hopefully he will come to realise on his own..."  
  
"...That Muggles are not beneath us." Lombard coughed and straightened his robes, "Well, I think that's it. I will recommend to the council that you be given full Legal Guardianship of Draco. If you are, he'll be legally obliged to stay here until the age of seventeen, then after that it's up to you. And Draco of course."  
  
"Thank you very much Odo." They both stood up, and after shaking hands, Lombard left using the fireplace.  
  
"You can all come in now." Arthur said, and Ron, Ginny, Fred and George all walked into the room, looking sheepish, "Well, it looks promising."  
  
"For you." Ginny muttered.  
  
"Do you know how many times that git has insulted you and mum?" Fred demanded, his face going red.  
  
"I am very much aware of what Draco feels for our family." Arthur informed them, "But that's because he was raised to believe that. Once he gets to know us-"  
  
"Don't be naïve." Ginny snapped, "He's sixteen! He's fixed in his ways."  
  
"He's fifteen." Arthur corrected.  
  
"What? Malfoy's younger than me?" Ron asked, looking both shocked and pleased, "When's his birthday?"  
  
"August the twelfth." Their father said, looking at a piece of paper Lombard had left him with Draco's details on them, "Isn't that nice? If we do get custody, we'll get to celebrate his birthday here."  
  
"He'll just sneer at whatever we get him." George told him.  
  
"Why are you ruining our lives?" Ginny asked, sitting down, "You don't want another son, do you? Because there are much better candidates."  
  
"Ginny, please try to understand," Arthur sighed, "If Harry's uncle or aunt, or Hermione's parents were to die, we'd take them in, wouldn't we? If something were to happen to either mine or your mother's friends, we'd take in their children without thinking twice."  
  
"Yeah but-" Ron interrupted, but his father cut him off.  
  
"I know what you're going to say Ron." He told his son, "They're our friends; of course we'd help them in a time of need. But what does it say about us if we're only willing to help those who we know and care about? Being a good person means helping those that we'd rather not. It'll be hard, Draco will most likely not be happy, but we will show compassion and understanding, and if it doesn't work out at least we'll know we did the right thing."  
  
"His dad tried to kill me." Ginny whispered, than added, "Twice."  
  
"And he's paying for that, and all the other crimes he's committed." Arthur pointed out, "Don't blame Draco for Lucius's wrongdoing."  
  
"I'll do whatever I damn well like." She snapped, storming out of the room. Fred and George glared at their father before following their little sister.  
  
"I'm hoping against all hopes that one day you'll thank me for this." Arthur told Ron, the only one of his children still in the room.  
  
"Sorry dad, but I really doubt it." Ron replied, patting his father on the back before leaving as well.  
  
"So we are decided?" Cornelius Fudge asked, looking over the papers.  
  
"It seems like the best decision." Lombard said, "They're a good family, we all know how well their children have turned out. He will do well there."  
  
"I disagree." One man said, a short man with a slightly nervous look to him, "He would do much better with Severus Snape."  
  
"We have discussed this Price." Lombard sighed, "Severus Snape is his Head of House, and has no prior experience of raising children. It will complicate things between the two of them. No, Draco has to be in a situation where he has parental figures. That is not something Severus Snape can provide."  
  
"But the Weasley's..." Price started, but was cut off by Cornelius Fudge himself.  
  
"Are a very good family, who have never committed a single crime." He pointed out, "Whereas Severus's record is slightly less than spotless."  
  
"Nothing has ever been proved." Price reminded the Minister, but there was no conviction in his voice, he had lost his argument.  
  
"You are the only one of us who disagrees." Lombard said finally, "Unless you tell us right now why he shouldn't go to the Weasley's, we'll have to make the decision despite your objections."  
  
But Price remained silent, and when one of the documents was placed in front of him, he took out his quill and signed it.  
  
"Odo, tell the Weasley's that they will be receiving Draco tomorrow at mid day." Fudge said finally, "I'll tell the boy myself, and arrange his transport."  
  
Tom knocked nervously on the door of his young charge, but was greeted with silence.  
  
"Master Malfoy?" He called hesitantly.  
  
"Go away!" Came a voice from within the room.  
  
"I just talked to Minister Fudge, Master Malfoy." Tom called through the door; "He's coming to collect you at ten tomorrow morning. I thought you should know."  
  
"Now I know." Replied the voice, "Now go away!"  
  
"Ok, Master Malfoy."  
  
Draco listened to the sound of Tom walking away, looking around the now wrecked room. He held his arms in front of him, palm up, and looked at the many scars that now laced them. He couldn't quite remember what he was thinking each time he cut, except the surety that it would be better afterwards. Except it wasn't better. His father was still in Azkaban, his mother was still dead, and, it looked like, he was still going to live with the Weasley's.  
  
Pulling out his wand he repaired the mirror and healed his cuts. The room was still a mess, but he was able to clean it up a little. Surely the House Elves would take care of the rest.  
  
"Well, that was unreasonable." The mirror muttered under its breath.  
  
"I will smash you again if you talk to me." He told it, and was left with nothing but a slightly resentful silence, "I am not going to live with the Weasley's."  
  
The mirror, wisely, stayed silent.  
  
Cornelius Fudge and Odo Lombard sat in the Ministry car, watching the streets pass them by. Neither was particularly used to this type of transport, but it was the only way when minors where involved.  
  
"Should you tell him or should I?" Lombard asked eventually.  
  
"I'll do it, I used to see the boy quite regularly, and he knows me." Fudge replied.  
  
"Yes, he knows you as the man who allowed his father to be put into prison."  
  
"Are you being disrespectful to me Odo?" The Minister snapped.  
  
"Of course not Sir." Lombard said quickly.  
  
"I didn't think so." There was a moment's silence, "Perhaps you should tell him, I'll wait for you in the pub itself."  
  
"Is the room ready?" Arthur called, straightening his robes.  
  
"It was until the twins decided to 'help'!" Molly called back, "Honestly, there was no need..."  
  
"You can't give him Percy's room!" Came a shriek from Ginny, "What if Percy wants to come back?"  
  
"He can bunk with Ron when he comes to visit." Her mother replied, "He made it very clear that he wished to remain in London. Draco will need a room."  
  
"Why can't we stick him in the attic with the ghoul?" Fred asked.  
  
"How comes Percy has to stay in my room?" Ron wailed  
  
Arthur sighed, looking over the living room. Even at it's most spotless it was still shabby, and there were only a few short hours until Draco arrived.  
  
"Molly, I'll deal with the room. Why don't you start on Lunch, so you're not panicking ten minutes before he arrives?" He called up the stairs, and his wife appeared above him, looking relieved.  
  
"Thank you dear." She said kindly, "The boys are driving me mad, and Ginny's having a strop. When you're done with the bedroom, I think you should have a word with her."  
  
"I will." He kissed her on the cheek as they passed on the stairs, and then made his way to Percy's old room. It was next to Ginny's, and her door was open a crack. He could see her peering at him through it, but when she saw she had been noticed she slammed the door shut.  
  
"Ah, the joys of parenthood." He muttered pushing Percy's room door open. Inside all he could see was a mass of feathers. On the bed sat Fred and George, their hair full of white.  
  
"We thought we'd plump the pillows." George explained.  
  
"We might have got a bit carried away." Added his twin.  
  
"You two enjoy being responsible adults, don't you?" Arthur asked, and his sons nodded, looking worried, "Your business is doing very well, I dare say you earn even more than me, correct?" Again, they nodded, "But the funny thing is, you still live in my house, and unless you clean this room up this very instant I won't hesitate to ground you both for a month, understood?"  
  
He didn't shout, he never shouted, but from time to time his voice took on a gravity that was impossible to disobey, and the two boys, sighing, began to clear up the mess they had made.  
  
"I'm going to talk to Ginny, I really hope that the room is clean by the time I'm finished." He left the room to a chorus of 'yes dad's', and made his way to his daughter's room, knocking softly on her door, "Ginny, can I come in?"  
  
"No!" She shouted.  
  
"Please Ginny." He pleaded. Like a lot of father's, he was terrified of his teenage daughter, and was very much aware that she had the power to make his life miserable. It was something she must have learnt from her mother.  
  
"Go away!" She shouted, and something bashed against the door. Great, he wasn't even in the room and she had begun throwing things.  
  
"Won't you even talk to me Ginger Bear?" he called, using her baby name. It was a weapon he didn't use often, for though it had been known to calm his daughter, it had also been known to cause minor tantrums, and even major hysterics. This time, however, it worked. There was the sound of footsteps, and the door opened slightly. He opened it to find her already back on her bed.  
  
Ginny's bedroom was that of a girl's who hadn't been given the opportunity to assert her teenagerness on it yet. She was rarely at home, so it still looked like it had when she had first left for Hogwarts. The only difference was that she had got rid of her cuddly toys. Well, most of them.  
  
"Dad, please don't let him come here." She whispered, "I hate him, I hate everything about the Malfoy's. You put that hate in me."  
  
"Where else would he go?" Arthur asked, "Who else would take him?"  
  
"Isn't Tonks his cousin?" Ginny asked, "Why can't he live with her mother?"  
  
"Andromeda is married to a Muggle Born, Ted Tonks." Her father reminded her, "A Malfoy living with Weasley's is a far enough stretch, but we are purebloods, that'll mean something to him. He would find it impossible to live with Muggle Borns."  
  
"Doesn't he have any other family?" her voice was desperate.  
  
"Most the Blacks are in Azkaban, that's his mother's side of the family, and Lucius Malfoy was the only one of his family left in England, the other's are all in France." Arthur explained, "If Sirius were still alive and had been cleared, then perhaps he could take him, but he's not. We're the only people he has."  
  
"I don't like it." Ginny told him, "But maybe I understand it, a little. But why does he have to have the room next to mine?"  
  
It was almost exactly ten when Draco heard the knock on the door. No House Elves had come to clean the room in the night, and it was still a bit of a mess, but there wasn't much he could do about that. They'd probably clean up after he left.  
  
"Come in." He called, and a wiry looking man entered the room, looking rather nervous.  
  
"Draco Malfoy?" He asked, and Draco nodded, "I'm Odo Lombard, Minister of the Care of Minors. Minister Fudge and myself have come to collect you."  
  
"Where will I be going?" The boy asked, dreading the answer.  
  
"After much deliberation, we decided the best place for you was with Arthur and Molly Weasley." Lombard told him, "They're a very good pure blood Wizarding family, and have raised all their children very well."  
  
"I don't want to go." Draco replied, "P-p-please don't make me go."  
  
"There were several other candidates." The older man told him, ignoring the boy's words, "But we decided that you needed a stable family environment. We think you'll be happy there."  
  
"I won't be." He was looking more and more distressed as the conversation went on, "I can't live with the Weasley's. Don't make me beg."  
  
"I'm sorry Draco." Lombard finally seemed to have heard what was being said to him, "But the decision has already been made. The Weasley's are a good family; they'll treat you with care and respect. Please do the same in return."  
  
"I'll...try." Draco finally agreed.  
  
"I say, you do seem to have made a bit of a mess of the room." He said, peering around the room, "Is that a blood stain on the carpet?"  
  
"Uh, red ink." Draco replied quickly, "It's not a huge mess, nothing the House Elves can't handle."  
  
"The leaky Cauldron doesn't have House Elves." Lombard told him.  
  
"Oh. Sorry."  
  
Lunch was almost ready, the twins had cleaned Draco's bedroom and Arthur had spent an hour removing all their 'little jokes'. Everyone had put on their best robes, and the house looked presentable.  
  
"You'd think that the Minister of Magic was coming to visit, the amount that you two are fussing over this." George said. He had Fred wore considerably better robes than the others, although they had bought Ginny some nice robes for her Christmas present, so she looked quite nice.  
  
"He is, he's bringing Draco." Arthur explained.  
  
"Does the Minister get involved with all the cases of orphaned Wizarding children?" Fred asked.  
  
"Well no, but..." His father was cut off by the doorbell sounding, and rushed out of the living room to get the door. He reappeared a few minutes later with Fudge, Lombard, and a very uncomfortable looking Draco.  
  
"Well, there are a few things we have to go over, so let's begin, eh?" Fudge said cheerfully, and everyone sat down.  
  
A.N. Ok, this story is really random and I'm not sure where it's going. If you think the whole situation is totally unrealistic then I really agree with you. But I am cursed with ideas that don't leave me alone until I write them down so...  
  
And also, I'm obviously insane and therefor cannot be blamed for any of my actions.  
  
Please don't flame me! 


	2. Home

Disclaimer: It's mine! It's all mine! Mwahaha! Oh wait, this is reality...  
  
Home   
  
There was, it turned out, a lot to go over. So much, in fact, that it took over an hour to get through, and the lunch Molly had prepared went cold.  
  
It was mainly just signing things. By the end of it Arthur, Molly and Draco's hands were quite tired, and there was a huge stack of papers next to them.  
  
"Well, that's it I suppose." Fudge said finally, "A social Worker will be appointed to you, and will visit you once a week, bringing with them your weekly allowance. It probably isn't as much as you're used to, but you'll get by. Also, some time next week, your Social Worker will take you back to the manor to collect anything you really want. Once you turn seventeen it's yours but until then... I'll visit again before the end of the holidays."  
  
"Thank you Minister." Draco replied flatly.  
  
"Cheer up m'boy," Fudge patted him on the shoulder, "I know it looks rather dreary now, but the sun will shine again. Well Arthur, Molly, I must be off. Important Ministry business."  
  
"Yes Minister, I do work for the Ministry too." Arthur replied, "How is the hunt going?"  
  
Draco noticed that Arthur Weasley looked slightly smug when he said this, and he remembered that the Weasley's had been on Dumbledore's side against the Ministry over the issue of Voldemort.  
  
"Well, we have several leads, so..." He trailed off looking embarrassed, "I'll see you again soon, you too Draco. Goodbye." And with that he apparated away. Lombard stayed a moment longer to give a slightly more sincere goodbye, before following suite.  
  
And Draco was left sitting in the Weasley living room.  
  
"Well, let's see if I can salvage the lunch, shall I?" Molly said, "It's cold, but I can warm it up."  
  
Arthur, the twins, Ron, Ginny and Draco all followed her into the kitchen. After some nervous looks, Draco finally took the seat between Arthur and Molly. After a few moments silence an awkward conversation started.  
  
"After lunch, we'll show you your room." Molly told him, "It's quite a nice size. Then afterwards you can watch the others de-gnome the garden. They make something of a competition of it."  
  
"What are you two talking about?" Arthur asked suddenly. Fred and George had been whispering to each other, but now looked at their father, their faces the picture of innocence.  
  
"Nothing Dad." Fred said earnestly, "Just Quidditch."  
  
"We were thinking of playing a game after we de-gnome the garden." George added.  
  
"It'd be great if we had a snitch." Ginny said wistfully, "I'd love to play Seeker."  
  
"Who says you're playing?" Fred asked.  
  
"You can't be serious!" The small red head exclaimed, "I caught the snitch for Gryffindor! I beat Cho Chang!"  
  
"Yeah, but Chang's a rubbish player." George pointed out, "Anyway, we don't want you to get hurt. We play rough."  
  
"Funny, you didn't seem to worry about me getting hurt when you knocked me down the stairs with your trunks." Ginny said bitterly, "Mu-um! Da-ad! Tell them!"  
  
"I don't see why Ginny can't play." Molly said evenly, "She's a very good player."  
  
"Fine." George sighed, "You can play."  
  
"Draco, you have a broomstick, don't you?" She asked, "Wouldn't you like to play Quidditch with them."  
  
There was a long silence. No one could believe she'd asked. They all looked at Draco, apprehension on their faces. He had managed to get through most the lunch without drawing attention to himself, and now he was faced with this. He had to get out of it with out causing insult.  
  
"Uh," His mind worked furiously, "If I play, it'll be uneven. Maybe another time."  
  
There was a silent sigh of relief from everyone. They all nodded, and George even managed to say, nonchalantly, "You can watch, if you want." Although he was looking at his potatoes as he said it.  
  
After lunch the four Weasley children headed into the garden the start the de-gnoming, and Molly and Arthur took Draco up to his room.  
  
"It looks bare now, but once you start to put your own touches in it it'll look fine." Molly assured him.  
  
"You can leave your unpacking until tomorrow if you want." Arthur told him, "It's up to you."  
  
"Thank you...um?" He had no idea what to call them.  
  
"Just call us Molly and Arthur." Molly said, smiling.  
  
They left, and Draco was left in the room. All that was in it was a bed, a bedside table, a chest of drawers, a desk and some shelves. All personal effects were gone, and the room felt cold and lonely.  
  
He picked up his bag and unpacked his clothes. He was, like his father, a very neat person, and although he was used to the House Elves doing things like this, he was vaguely aware of how to fold and put away clothes.  
  
Once finished with his clothes he turned to the other possessions that cluttered the bottom of his trunk. There was his chess set, his journal, his books, his stationary and the box that had once belonged to his grandfather. He put his books on the shelves, his stationary and his chess set on the desk and his journal and box on the bedside table.  
  
It had taken him all of fifteen minutes to relocate his life into the Weasley's house. There were still the things at the manor that he would like to pick up, but this was mainly it. Perhaps Molly was right, and that it would become more homely the more he lived in it.  
  
Sighing he left the bedroom and made his way the garden. Once there he was almost hit in the head by a flying object.  
  
"Uh, sorry." Said Ginny, the youngest Weasley. She didn't actually look sorry.  
  
Draco hadn't mentioned it, but he had had no idea what it was to de-gnome a garden. Now he realised that it consisted entirely of chucking gnomes over the fence, spinning them around a bit before hand.  
  
"Ha!" Ginny exclaimed as her gnome flew through the air and landed in the field, "Did you see that? That had to be forty five feet!"  
  
"No way Gin." Fred shook his head, "Thirty at most."  
  
"Look at it! Look how far it is!" She exclaimed, pointing.  
  
"Ah, but it skidded, didn't it?" George pointed out, "That doesn't count you see."  
  
"It did not skid." She sulked, "Forty five feet...at least!"  
  
They were mostly ignoring him apart from the occasional half-hearted apology when they miss aimed and he'd have to duck to avoid a flying gnome. It was...not enjoyable, but interesting. Draco wasn't used to family situations, and certainly none to do with the Weasley's. But they seemed to be enjoying themselves so much, even when they were teasing each other.  
  
Eventually Molly came outside, offering cold drinks. It was home made lemonade, and very delicious.  
  
"Thank you Mrs Weasley." He muttered after taking a sip.  
  
"I told you dear, call me Molly." She said kindly. Behind her Ron pulled a face, "Um, dear, I just received a letter from your Aunt Andromeda."  
  
Aunt Andromeda. He knew very little about his mother's sister who married a Muggle Born. But if she was writing to the Weasley's the day he arrived it could only mean one thing, funeral arrangements.  
  
"Shall we go inside?" She asked, and he nodded. Once inside she passed him a scroll of parchment.  
  
Dear Arthur and Molly, I have heard through the grapevine that you are now the legal guardians of my nephew Draco. I am terribly sorry that I could not have been more of a help to the boy. It is my belief that he would be far happier with you then he would be with Ted and I. Also, I thought Nymphadora's involvement with the arrest of Draco's father may have made thing's awkward. I have made contact with several other of my relatives, and arrangements for Narcissa's funeral have been arranged. I will send Draco an official invitation, but I thought you should know in advance. Thank you for the compassion you have shown Draco. Andromeda Tonks.  
  
"Will you be attending my mother's funeral also?" He asked quietly.  
  
"No Draco, me and Arthur have no business being there." She replied, "We'll make sure you get there safely and are brought back here though."  
  
"In case I run away?" He snapped.  
  
"Yes." She answered, and he was taken back by her honesty, "We're not fools Draco, we know you don't want to be here. But you are, and that's all there is to it."  
  
"Mrs Weasley-"  
  
"Molly." She corrected.  
  
"Molly..." He sighed, "You're children don't tell you everything that happens in school, do they?"  
  
"Of course they don't!" She laughed, "I'd have a heart attack if I knew half the thing's they've been up to."  
  
"Do they tell you anything about me?" Draco asked.  
  
"Generally? No, just a few complaints here and there." She told him, "Occasionally I get a few specifics. I know about some of the things you've called us, some of the things you've said about our home. I know about the time when you teamed up with Umbridge against my children and their friends. But look around our home, is it a dustbin?"  
  
Reluctantly, he looked around the kitchen. It was small and squashy, but had a friendly, lived in feeling. "No." He admitted, "It isn't."  
  
"And is there anything appalling about my Husband and me?" Molly asked.  
  
"No, not at all." He said quickly. If there was one thing his father had taught him it was that you respected your elders. Well, to their faces anyway.  
  
"Think carefully Draco, and answer what you think, not just what I want to hear." She said warningly, "Is there anything about me and Arthur that appals you?  
  
"No." he said carefully, but she was looking at him sharply, "Well, I...I really don't understand why you like Muggles so much." He confessed.  
  
"Because I find them to be no different from us." She told him, "They eat like we do, they sleep like they do. Some of them work for a living and some of them don't. They have laws that are broken; they have rich people and poor people. They can't do magic, but they survive anyway."  
  
"I know...but-"  
  
"Have you ever met a Muggle?" She asked him.  
  
"I've met Muggle Borns." He replied.  
  
"But never a Muggle?"  
  
"No." He admitted distastefully.  
  
"Well, as soon as I can, I'll arrange for you to come with me to Muggle London and meet a friend of mine." She told him, "After that you can judge."  
  
"How do you know a Muggle?" He asked.  
  
"He's the brother of a Muggle Born friend of mine." She explained, "Well, I think that's it. We'll keep a look out for that invitation from Andromeda. You can go back outside now, if you want."  
  
Nodding, he left the kitchen and went into the Weasley's garden. The Weasley children had finished de-gnoming the garden and were getting ready to play some Quidditch. They all looked at him nervously as he walked into their view.  
  
"Uh..." Ron said, looking at his feet, "We're...uh..."  
  
"We're going to play Quidditch." Ginny finished off for him. Draco had the almost irresistible urge to say 'well that's obvious' but stopped himself.  
  
"You can..." Fred started, but was unable to continue. Ginny sighed impatiently.  
  
"Oh for god's sake! Look, you can come and watch if you want." She said sharply, "Can we go now? It'll be dark by the time we start at this rate."  
  
She was the only one of them who looked at him when she talked to him, but it wasn't much better as she looked at him like he was something vaguely disgusting.  
  
"Let's go then." George said, hoisting his broom over his shoulder, "We all know ickle Ginnykins has to be in bed when it gets dark."  
  
"Shut up." She snapped. They began to march up to the hill where the played Quidditch, and Draco, feeling very unwanted, followed a little distance behind them.  
  
Half way up Fred and George called at exactly the same time 'Team leader!' and Ron gave a disgruntled sigh.  
  
"I choose...Ginny." Fred said eventually.  
  
"Gee thanks." Ron muttered, "Make me feel all wanted why don't you?"  
  
"It's ok, lil' bro, we'll squash 'em." George assured his younger brother.  
  
On each end of the paddock there was a basked on top of a pole, and the Weasley's used an old football they had found as a Quaffle. There were no specific positions, the general idea of the game was to score a goal or prevent a goal from being scored whoever you were.  
  
It took every once of Draco's will not to burst out into 'Weasley Is Our King' but he had the feeling that it would not go down well at all. He contented himself by humming it very quietly under his breath.  
  
"Foul!" Ginny shouted as George grabbed the back of her broom, "George you idiot! That's such a foul!"  
  
"Not the way we play!" He replied, grinning, "Told you, you couldn't keep up with us!"  
  
The game continued in that way, the twins breaking every rule imaginable while Ron and Ginny tried their best to keep up.  
  
After an hour or so of this they began to tire and landed, even the losers looking happy.  
  
"We would have won if Ginny hadn't cheated." George said finally.  
  
"How is shouting 'isn't that Maximus Brankovitch the third' cheating?" She asked, shocked, "That tree looked astonishingly like him!"  
  
There was general laughter at that, and George affectionately tousled her hair. She glared at him for a moment, before smiling.  
  
"Guess we should be getting back." Fred sighed, "It was a good game though. We'll make Quidditch Players out of you two yet."  
  
"Ok, you two have just completely forgot about us winning the Quidditch cup, haven't you?" Ron asked, "Because we did pretty damn good!"  
  
"Yeah, you did ok." George said nonchalantly, "No way as good as you would have if we were on the team."  
  
"We didn't need decent beaters to win." Ron pointed out. There was a moment of silence, and then they all burst out laughing.  
  
"Or beaters who could, you know, play at all." He added, grinning.  
  
Draco could scarcely believe it. Were they...taking the piss out of their own team members?  
  
"Remember when Sloper knocked himself out with is own bat?" Ginny asked, giggling.  
  
"Or when he hit Angelina in the mouth?" George laughed.  
  
"I'll thank you for not making fun of my girlfriend's misfortune." Fred said, slightly testily, "Now Kirke falling off the broom when Smith flew near him, that you can make fun of."  
  
"It wasn't bloody funny at the time." Ron reminded them, "I could have died with embarrassment."  
  
"At their playing or at yours?" Fred asked.  
  
"Shut up." The younger boy grumbled.  
  
"Come on, let's go." Ginny sighed, "It's getting cold."  
  
So, following a good deal behind the Weasley's, Draco made his way back to the burrow. It was strange, but when the twin's jokes weren't aimed at him, he found them quite funny. Ron wasn't half the annoying prat he had thought he was, and Ginny, being considerable smaller than the average fifteen year old girl, was almost cute. Almost.  
  
"Ahh!" She shouted as her hair caught on a branch, "Bloody buggery stupid tree! Fine, that's it! I'm cutting all this sodding hair off! I'd rather be bloody bald then have to deal with this all the bloody time!"  
  
Almost.  
  
As they had had a big Sunday lunch, they only had a small snack before bed. Arthur and Molly sent them all into the living room with the plates, and everyone took a seat. The twins and Ron sat on one sofa, Arthur and Molly on another; smaller one, and Ginny sat and Molly's feet, allowing her mother to pick twigs out her of her hair. The only free chair was a small arm chair, which Draco sat in nervously.  
  
"We're going back to work tomorrow." Fred told them, "All the kids are on summer holiday, it makes for a good market."  
  
"Which reminds me, we need to cut down on the Skiving Snackboxes." George said, "There's not much of a need for them if you're not at school."  
  
"I'm not happy about you selling those." Molly scorned.  
  
"You didn't mind them when they were annoying the hell out of Umbridge." George reminded her. There was a silence and everyone's eyes slid over to Draco.  
  
"Uh, I think my friend Theodore bought some of them once." He told them, looking at his shoe, "H-he said they worked really well."  
  
"Have you ever used them Draco?" Arthur asked conversationally.  
  
"No." He confessed.  
  
"Now see? Draco's serious about his studies." Molly said pointedly.  
  
"I've never used a Skiving Snackbox either." Ron reminded her.  
  
"Only because you couldn't afford them." It could have come from Draco, it would have been exactly the sort of thin Draco would say, but it came from Fred. It wasn't an enemy pointing out a weakness; it was a big brother teasing his younger sibling.  
  
"Ow!" Ginny said suddenly, "Mum, that hurt!"  
  
Molly had accidentally pulled Ginny's hair, and made general sounds of apology.  
  
"Well, I think I'm going to go to bed now, what about you dear?" Arthur asked Molly, and she nodded, getting up. They kissed their children good night and patted Draco on the shoulder before leaving the room. There was a long moment where none of the children said anything, and then Draco coughed and stood up.  
  
"Uh...goodnight." He mumbled. They mumbled their goodnights to him, and he hurried up the stairs to his bedroom.  
  
Changing into his night-clothes he got into bed and turned off the light.  
  
This was, apparently, his house, his room. And the Weasley's were his family.  
  
"They are," He said into the darkness, "Not my family."  
  
The darkness didn't say anything back, it never does.  
  
A.N. Huh, I thought people would have more objections to my twisted plot. Oh well, I'm not complaining. This story could go a lot of different ways, so if you want to make some suggestions I'd be happy to hear them. This is not a transparent attempt to get plot ideas because I have none, honest!  
  
Thanks to...  
  
Dementorchic: Well, let's just say people will not be happy...  
  
Queendiablo: Most my stuff is Ginny/Draco, I'm not sure if this will though! And this fic is all about conflict, so Harry coming to stay... Well, let's just say it's likely....  
  
Leen: Ahh, romance. Well, I could be persuaded.  
  
Sever13: Well, this is next chapter...  
  
MelissaAdams: I'm so obedient.  
  
Invader Kit: That has to be the most neutral review I've ever had! Oh well, I can't have all enthusiastic reviewers. 


	3. Every Right

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
III Every Right III  
  
Draco sat at a long table; in front of him was a large silver platter.  
  
"I'm terribly sorry, but my wife will be doing the serving this evening." Lucius told him, "All our servants have died, and simply will not get out of bed."  
  
"You should flog them," Draco whispered, still looking at the plate, "It's the only thing they understand."  
  
"Quite." Lucius clapped his hand together twice, "Narcissa, bring the food."  
  
Narcissa Malfoy tottered into the room, and Draco finally looked up. Her normally beautifully set blonde hair was straggly and slightly green looking, like seaweed. She wore the pink Muggle cocktail dress someone had sent her as a prank a few years ago. She also wore a pair of bright pink high heel shoes to go with the dress. Her eyes were wide and grey looking. She was holding a large plate that she looked like she was about to drop.  
  
"I apologise for my wife." Lucius told him, "She, unfortunately, has also died, but unlike our servants she's still getting on with it."  
  
"Quite right." Draco mumbled, looking at his mother, "What are we having for dinner?"  
  
"The servants." Narcissa told him. Draco nodded, watching as she served him the food, "Would you like some blood with that dear?"  
  
"No thank you Mother." He replied, "It doesn't agree with me."  
  
"Really Draco, I insist." She said sternly, picking up his knife, "Wrist or neck, dear?"  
  
"No, really Mother, I really don't want any." He insisted.  
  
"Don't disagree with your mother." Lucius snapped, "He'll have some from the wrist Narcissa."  
  
She nodded, and in a quick motion slit her wrist, holding it over the food, letting the blood dribble down. Draco wanted to run, but he couldn't move from his chair.  
  
"Now dear, eat it all up." She said kindly.  
  
"No!"  
  
III  
  
"No!" Draco shouted, kicking off the bed sheets. Sitting up, he found he was sweating, and his heart was racing. After he calmed down he climbed out of his bed and opened the window, leaning out into the cold air.  
  
After he had stopped sweating he walked back over to his bed and picked up the box on the bedside table. He opened it slowly, and caught sight of the small shard of glass he had got from the mirror. It still had blood on it.  
  
"I'm not doing it again." He whispered, picking up the shard, "I'm not. I'm just...just looking at it."  
  
It glittered in the moonlight, and even the now brown blood looked beautiful.  
  
"Not that I don't have a right to." He said, "I have every right to. But I'm not going to. Because I don't need to. But I have every right to. No one could blame me if I did, because I have every right to."  
  
Afterwards, he put the shard back in the box and pulled out his wand to heal the cut, and then hesitated.  
  
He had healed himself before, sure, but that was at the Leaky Cauldron, just after he'd found out about his mother. The Ministry would have known, but they were probably being lenient. Would they be lenient if he did even more magic? And what if they nature of the magic he was doing came out. What if people knew?  
  
Well, they couldn't blame him if they did find out. He had every right to do what he did. He was in pain, he was allowed. He had every right.  
  
But instead of healing the cut with magic he put his wand away. It wasn't because he was scared of them finding out, no, because he had every right to. It was because...because he wanted to keep it, that's why he didn't heal it. He wasn't scared of people finding out, because he had every right.  
  
III  
  
When Draco woke up the next morning, he found only Molly, Ron and Ginny sitting at the dinner table.  
  
"Arthur and the twins have left for work dear." Molly explained, "What do you want for breakfast."  
  
Ron had bacon eggs and toast on his table, and Ginny was eating some sort of cereal that was fizzling.  
  
"Uh, could I have some toast and eggs...please?" He asked nervously. Ron was looking determinedly at his breakfast, and Ginny was making swiping motions with her spoon at the sparks that rose from her bowl, also ignoring him.  
  
"Of course you can." Molly said, smiling, "Are you sure you don't want anything else?"  
  
"That's fine...thank you." All this please and thanks you's towards the Weasley's was getting tiring, but Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had taught their son good manners, and he was determined to use them.  
  
At that moment, two owls swooped into the kitchen. One was a largish barn owl, and the other was a magnificent snowy owl. Harry Potter's owl.  
  
The barn owl flew over to Ginny, who blushed as she opened it, and Harry's owl flew over to Ron, who ripped open the letter eagerly, giving the owl some bacon at the same time.  
  
"Who's writing to you Ginny?" Molly asked, peering over. Ginny backed away, clutching the letter close.  
  
"No one." She said quickly, looking shifty.  
  
"Don't tell me it's from Dean Thomas." Ron said.  
  
"Ok, I won't." Ginny snapped.  
  
"Dean Thomas? Isn't he that boy in your year?" Molly asked Ron.  
  
"Yeah, he's Ginny's new boyfriend." He replied nastily.  
  
"Shut up Ron!" the young girl exclaimed, "I wish I hadn't told you now."  
  
"Well I think it's lovely that you're seeing someone new." Molly assured her daughter, "Especially after that horrible break up with Michael."  
  
"Mum, he got stroppy, so I dumped him, it was hardly horrible." Ginny reminded her, "Dean's nice though. He sent me a very nice letter."  
  
"Can I see it?" Ron asked.  
  
"No!" She exclaimed.  
  
It seemed like this was how it would be forever. The Weasley's would act fine as long as they ignored him. As soon as the attention was on him, everyone went quiet.  
  
"So what did Harry say?" Ginny asked, peering over.  
  
"Nope, you didn't let me see the letter from Dean, you don't get to see the letter from Harry." Ron said stubbornly.  
  
"But that was a personal letter." She whined.  
  
"Here you go dear." Molly gave Draco his breakfast. He thanked her, and then continued listening to the youngest Weasley's conversation.  
  
"Yeah well, this letter is personal too." The red haired boy told her.  
  
"Really? I didn't know you and Harry were that close." Ginny teased.  
  
"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed, "Ok, fine, read it. Mum, Harry wants to know if he can visit soon. The Muggles are giving him a hard time, and he's still feeling bad because of...well...you know."  
  
"Of course he can stay...but..." Molly glanced over at Draco, and Ron followed suite. Ginny was still reading the letter, but her eyes flashed upwards for a second "Well...would you mind terribly Draco?"  
  
"Uh..." That seemed to be all he could say lately, "I...uh...Potter? I mean...Harry...Potter?"  
  
"He comes to visit us most summers, Hermione Granger too." Molly explained, "And with recent events...I wouldn't want to leave him with the Dursleys, his aunt and uncle. He's lost a loved one recently too."  
  
As if by fate, and that moment another owl swooped into the kitchen, a big black one. It landed in front of Draco, and held out a black envelope.  
  
"Ron, Ginny, have you two made your beds?" Molly asked quickly, "I think you should go now, and make them."  
  
Ron and Ginny were still; their eyes focussed on the black envelope. Draco, tenderly, took it from the owl, but didn't open it, not even after the owl had flown away.  
  
"Ron, Ginny, go make your beds now." Molly snapped, and at last her children obeyed her.  
  
"It's the invitation." Draco told her needlessly.  
  
"When is it?" She asked gently.  
  
"In two days." He told her, "2'oclock, Wednesday. It says here that I should go to the home of Andromeda Tonks, and I'll be taken to the funeral from there."  
  
"Andromeda is a good woman." Molly told him, "I don't imagine Ted will be there, but you might get to meet Nymphadora, your cousin. She's really very sweet, if not a bit clumsy. She'll insist on being called Tonks though."  
  
"You seem to know a lot about my family." Draco said after a moments thought, "I didn't even know my cousins name."  
  
"If you're not too picky about who you associate with, you'll find you'll meet a much wider variety of people." She told him, "And many of those people will be interesting, good, honest people."  
  
"Are you hinting at something?" he asked sarcastically, and she laughed, before stifling it quickly.  
  
"I might be, but I won't put any pressure on you Draco." She sighed softly, "I won't pretend that I know you, but you seem like such a nice boy. I'd like to think you're sorry for some of the things you've done. And I'd like to think that one-day you'll be able to talk to me about everything. About your family, your mother."  
  
"I'm not very good at talking about things like that." He told her, "And I don't know if I'm sorry for the things I've done. I'm just...not a nice person."  
  
"Don't talk like that." Molly scolded, "You spent nearly all day with my children yesterday without saying an unkind word to them, and then, last night, you complimented Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. You've been a complete gentleman to me, and you've done all this while recovering from a terrible loss. Are those the actions of a 'not a nice person'?"  
  
"I..." Draco shook his head; "I can't talk about her now."  
  
"I wouldn't expect you too." She told him kindly, "Now, what do you think about Harry and Hermione coming to stay?"  
  
"Could we arrange for me to be out when they arrive?" He asked. Molly laughed, and Draco couldn't help but like her.  
  
III  
  
When Ron and Ginny returned from their bedrooms Molly told them to invite Harry and Hermione over to visit in a few weeks. She explained that this was in order to give Draco time to adjust.  
  
"Will you be seeing Dean over the summer Ginny?" Molly asked.  
  
"He wants me to come and see a football match with him, whatever football is." She explained.  
  
"It's a boring Muggle game." Ron told her, "He explained it to me once. There's only one ball, and you have to kick it through this massive net. Where's the fun in that? And you're not allowed to fly."  
  
"Sounds boring." Draco agreed quietly. There was a silence, but Ron was not one to reject an agreement, and carried on.  
  
"It is. If you make a foul, they can send you off! What's the point? In Quidditch, fouls just add the excitement of the game." Ginny and Draco nodded, both sharing Ron's love of Quidditch, "And you're not allowed to attack people in football. No Bludgers, no beaters."  
  
"But one of the best bits in Quidditch is watching the players on the other team get hit with a bludger!" Draco exclaimed.  
  
"I know, but the worst Muggles do is tackle each other." Ron told them, "That's where they kinda kick each others legs to get the ball."  
  
"I think I might just have to tell Dean that I'm ill." Ginny said, sighing, "What boy would take his girlfriend to a 'football' match? Or a Quidditch match, for that matter?"  
  
"What's wrong with taking a girl to a Quidditch match for a date?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yeah, what is wrong with that?" Draco agreed, looking slightly panicked. He always took girls to Quidditch matches.  
  
"It's not very romantic, is it?" Ginny told them, "You'd be better off taking them to Madame Puddifoot's. She always has couples in there, on their dates. I went there with Michael a couple of times."  
  
"You did?" Ron asked, looking angry. She glared at him, and he changed course, "I mean...uh...how did he know that was a good place? Was there a memo that went round, telling all boys to take their dates to Madam Puddifoot's that I just missed?"  
  
"Maybe." Ginny shrugged, "Uh, Ron? Did Dean happen to mention what you wore to a football match?"  
  
"Do you even know who you're supposed to be supporting?" Draco asked.  
  
Behind them, Molly continued to wash up the dirty breakfast dishes. The teenagers couldn't see her face, but if they could have, they would have seen that she was beaming.  
  
III  
  
The conversation had soon run dry, and the three teenagers were left with the awkward silence again. Ron began writing out two letters for Harry and Hermione, while Ginny wrote a reply to Dean.  
  
"Oh, tell Harry and Hermione that I say hi, would you?" Ginny asked just as Ron was finishing.  
  
"Write them your own letters." He snapped.  
  
"Can I read the letters you're sending?" She asked her brother, "Or are they personal? Especially the one to Hermione."  
  
"Sod off." Ron mumbled, going red, "We're just friends."  
  
"Sure you are." She smiled, "Are you going to write to Neville or Luna? I really think we should, just to say hi, and ask them how they're doing."  
  
"Luna still scares me." He told her, frowning, "She's good if you need someone to watch your back, but she's seriously weird."  
  
"Are you talking about Loony Lovegood?" Draco asked, "The girl whose father runs the Quibbler?"  
  
"Yeah." Ginny nodded, and then went pale. Harry's article in the Quibbler had named Lucius Malfoy as a Death Eater.  
  
"The magazine where they talk about Humped Nosed Zingworts?" He'd never admit it, but he desperately wanted to have a conversation with these two people. He hadn't had a massive change of heart about the Weasley's, and he certainly did not want to be Ron or Ginny's best friend or anything like that. But Draco was a social creature, he was used to people being around him, people talking to him, and listening to him speak. And the truth was, he was lonely. And Ron and Ginny were company.  
  
"Honestly Malfoy, don't you know anything?" Ginny asked, "Its Crooked Kneed Plutrums."  
  
"No, I think you'll find it's definitely Humped Nosed Zingworts." He told her.  
  
"You're both wrong, its Slack Backed Crockvaws." Ron snapped, "I should know, I sent in the story about them."  
  
There was general laughter at that. They weren't getting on, not really, they were just arguing in a way that they all found amusing. That was ok. So long as everyone knew they weren't getting on. Not really.  
  
III  
  
They spent the day in the garden, mainly sitting in silence. Ginny read her book; Ron read the latest edition of Which Broomstick and Draco watched the Gnomes sneak back into the garden.  
  
When the twins returned from work they joined their younger siblings in the garden, and watched with a mix of shock and disgust as Ron and Ginny conversed with Draco in what could almost be seen as a normal way.  
  
During dinner Arthur gave them some news.  
  
"Boys, Ginny, Bill, Charlie and Percy will be visiting shortly." He told them, "Bill is bringing Fleur Delacour."  
  
"You're joking, Fleur's coming here?" Ron asked in amazement, and then his expression turned to dread, "If Hermione finds out she'll go mad."  
  
"Fleur Delacour's going out with you older brother?" Draco asked, and Ron nodded mutely.  
  
"I think Fleur's wonderful." Ginny said after a moment's thought "She's really beautiful, and she's not conceited She just knows she's beautiful. And she's always been nice to me."  
  
"When Hermione finds out she'll go mad." Ron repeated, shaking his head.  
  
"Where will they sleep?" Fred asked, "Percy's rooms taken now."  
  
"Molly and I are going to finally move all the mess out of Bill and Charlie's old rooms." Arthur explained, "I'm sure Percy won't mind bunking with one of them."  
  
"Dad?" Ginny looked worried, "They do know, don't they? About...about... Mal...Draco"  
  
"Charlie knows." Molly told them, "He was surprised, but he understood. He's going to tell Bill. We haven't found the time to tell Percy, but we'll tell him before he arrives."  
  
Draco swallowed involuntarily. He had seen the oldest Weasley son, Bill, and he was pretty impressive. A big tall man, with long red hair, and a fang earring. And he was, apparently, impressive enough for Fleur Delacour. What would he think of the new comer?  
  
"Well, as long as they know." Ginny shrugged, "Can't wait to see Bill again, he wrote in a letter that he had a present for me." "That boy spoils you." Molly muttered, "Always bringing you presents."  
  
The conversation continued, but Draco stopped listening. He was vaguely aware of a piece of rectangular card in his pocket. Black card with gold writing. An invitation to his mother's funeral. He didn't want to go, not really. There would be people there he didn't know, and he didn't know what was expected of him.  
  
He felt a gaze on him, and looked up to see Molly's deep brown eyes looking at him. In her eyes where a mixture of emotions. Pity; pity which he despised, but also understanding and affection. Draco couldn't understand it. He's never been anything but unpleasant to the Weasleys, but as soon as he had needed someone, they had been there for him. And Molly Weasley, who had no reason to whatsoever, even seemed to like him.  
  
He was also aware of one other thing. Even though he was nowhere near it, even though he couldn't see it, or feel it, he knew that somewhere in his room was that little shard of glass. And he wanted so badly to be alone with it. But that was ok, because he had every right to.  
  
III  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Jadyn Potter: I didn't give up! I've just been a little...busy (Lazy). Who said that? I'm not lazy!  
  
I-Wrote-A-New-Story: And I made a new update! I'm so obedient. I hope I fixed the problem with the scene changes. I really was putting in dividers, they just weren't showing up! As for plots...well, I have an idea. Just one though!  
  
Feline: Thanks  
  
Catmint: I'm a bit worried about people being out of character in this story, so tell me if they are!  
  
VJ: Thanks for all your input! Unfortunately, I have to post the unbetad version as the betad one went missing!  
  
Dementorchic: Well, the plots still twisted, but people are being nicer. Hope that doesn't ruin it!  
  
ESP: Well, advice was taken! No twins, they hate Malfoy too much.  
  
CHOCOBO: Malfoy's damn hard to write. Hope I haven't got him too far wrong. Thanks for the support!  
  
Punk Up The Volume: Romance...I've had some thoughts...  
  
Annay: And to contradict what you just said, I didn't update for ages! Well, it wasn't my fault...  
  
Readingfreak742: Thankies muchly  
  
MelissaAdams: Sorry it took so long! Yeah, Draco's getting into the family spirit! 


	4. Funeral

Hello everyone! Could I have waited any longer before posting this? Sorry! It's just that I'm writing two other fanfics, one other original, and having to do a ton of homework for my new college. This story was going to be quite long, but I think I'm going to try and round it off sooner. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

P.S.

This is the beta'd version, so all spelling and grammar mistakes should be gone. I'm working on the next chapter, it should be up soon. Keep reading!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

III

Funeral

III

This time it hurt. It had never hurt before, and Draco was surprised by the satisfying pain. He couldn't help a loud gasp escaping his lips, and quickly covered his mouth with his hand. He winced, and put the shard back in the box, and looked at the cut. It oozed with his blood, and he smiled slightly as he watched it. And then there was a sound outside his door, and he watched in horror as it opened.

She wore a simple white nightie, and her red hair stood out against it. She looked so pale, almost ghost like, and for a moment it occurred to Draco that she might be a ghost.

"Weas-Ginny?" He asked, confused.

"I heard you gasp; I thought you might have hurt yourself." She said quietly. Her eyes were fixed on the red gash, and the flickered to the open box with the glass shard in it, "Oh."

For a moment the realisation hung in the air. Draco could see his insistence that it was his right wither under her gaze, and for the first time in his life he felt ashamed of his actions. He had often been humiliated, by his father, by Potter, but never by his own actions.

"You did hurt yourself." She nodded, and he could see understanding in her dark eyes. She quietly walked across the room over to his bed, and sat at the end. It occurred to him to feel offended, to order her to leave, but shock and shame had silenced him, "A few years ago I used to get nightmares." She told him, her eyes still on the shard by his bed, "And when I did, I'd go and sleep in one of my brother's rooms. When I was feeling very brave, I could make it all the way to Ron's, which was best. Sometimes I would panic half way there, and have to settle for Fred and George's room. But mostly I never even made it that far. Mostly I'd be so frightened once I left the room that I'd have to come straight into here, and sleep with Percy."

His room was right next to hers of course. And this was Percy's old room. So this is where she would come when she was most scared. But what did a Weasley have nightmares about?

"But sometimes, when the nightmares where worse, I wouldn't even make it out of the room." She whispered, "When that happened, I had only one friend. Only one way to make the bad thoughts go away."

She held out her marble pale arm, palm up, and for the first time Draco really looked at it. It was laced with tiny little pink lines, just a shade different to her own skin. Hundreds of them ran up and down her arm, and he shuddered with disgust and recognition.

"Why?" He asked.

"Don't you know?" She asked, her eyes accusing, "Everyone knows that the heir of Slytherin controlled me into opening the Chamber. Everyone knows that I was possessed by You-Know-Who."

"No one told us how." He whispered, dread filling him, "It was...my..."

"Yes. He gave me a diary with You-Know-Who's sixteen year old self in it, Tom Riddle. I wrote all my fears and secrets in it, giving Tom power. Then he poured his secrets into me, and took me over." Ginny's voice was nothing but a horse whisper, "In my nightmares he was still inside me, filling up my stomach, my eyes, my mouth, until I choked on him. And when I hurt myself, in the dark my blood looked black, and I imagined I was forcing the evil out of me. I was such a silly little girl."

"So we have something in common." Draco's voice was pleading. He wanted to have something in common with this strange girl, a girl he had never even properly looked at before. How could he have never seen the scars, so apparent, on her skin? But he was so alone, and she looked like an angel in the dark, and it seemed so right. But she was shaking her head.

"Not one of these scars are younger than three years." She told him, "Mum wanted me to heal them, but I won't, I need to keep them as a reminder. They remind me of a time that was so dark it almost blinded me, and it's the only way I can truly see how bright my present is."

"It feels...good." He muttered.

"It always does." From the folds of her nightie came a handkerchief which she pressed to his cut, "It feels good right until the point when you realise you cut too deep, and too often. My mother got to me before then, but I've seen so many people who weren't helped. Mum...she likes you. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but it looks like you've won my parents over. Don't be afraid to go to them for help."

"I don't need help." Draco snarled, his pride kicking in. He pulled his arm away from her gentle hand, and glared at her.

"Just keep it in mind." Ginny's voice was distant, and she stood up as she said it. Then, without another word, she turned around and walked out of the room. He stared at the door for a long time after that, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Had Ginny actually come into his room? Had she bared her scars, insulted his pride and just left?

The next morning at breakfast, Ginny acted as normal to him. She neither sought his gaze nor avoided it, just as before. He could have believed it a dream. Except for now, when he looked at her bare arms, he saw the scars that laced them.

III

Days passed. Ginny didn't enter his room again. The woman from the ministry visited him, inspected his room, and then took him back to the manor to collect whatever possessions he wanted. Mainly he just took clothes and a few photos of his mother and father. Apart from that he couldn't really see anything he really wanted.

Back at the Weasley home, the days crept by slowly, but not slowly enough, and soon Wednesday was upon them. Draco took to the shard of glass the night before, and regretted it the next morning when he saw Ginny's reproachful stare. Even though he wore long sleeves, he knew she could tell, and looked away from her accusing brown eyes. Her brothers wouldn't look at him, and Fred and George set out for work early.

"Are you ready dear?" Molly asked quietly, and Draco nodded mutely, "Good. I'll floo to Andromeda's with you, and then come back later. She'll look after you."

So together they walked into the fire, and when Draco opened his eyes, he felt a gasp escape his mouth as his eyes fell upon his mother.

III

Arthur, Ron and Ginny sat around the dinner table after Molly and Draco had left in silence. They were all imagining Draco at his mother's funeral, trying to imagine the full horror of it for him. It was the first time Ron had ever felt anything near to sympathy for the blond boy.

"He's...well...you've been getting along with him, haven't you?" Arthur asked after a moment.

"Yeah, I suppose." Ron agreed quietly, "I mean...he hasn't been his normal ferret self."

"He hasn't said anything nasty." Ginny nodded, "Sometimes I can see he wants to, but he's stopping himself. I don't think he's ever had to stop himself before."

"But the other day, in the garden, you were sitting and talking quite well." Arthur pointed out.

"He's funny." Ron admitted, "Some of the things he says are really funny. I mean, when he's not telling Muggle jokes, or something stupid like that."

"Muggle jokes aren't even funny." Ginny agreed, "I've heard some of the Slytherins telling them, even they don't find them funny."

"But...I mean...well..." Arthur looked at a loss for words, "You don't mind...that is...well he's here, and you can get along with him...so..."

"Dad, if you're asking whether we're happy that he's here, then the answer is no." Ron cut in, "I'd way prefer for him to be living with some other Pure Blood family so we didn't have to deal with him. But you're right, he is here, and there's nowhere else for him to go. So I'm not going to complain about it. As long as he doesn't make any comments about Harry and Hermione, I'll leave him alone."

"Ah, well, yes...good." Arthur nodded, clearing his throat. Ginny was looking at her brother, a thoughtful look on her face. Then she blinked, shook her head and turned away.

III

It was his mother. It could be no one else. The same light blue eyes, the same striking blonde hair, and the same long elegant face. But there were differences too. She looked younger, for a start. Her hair had more of a wave to it, and her eyes were wider, giving her a slightly startled look. Her face was wider too, and not quite as elegant. And there was something else...her expression was one that had never crossed his mother's face. It made her look more like Molly Weasley than Narcissa Malfoy.

"Molly." She said, smiling slightly.

"Andromeda." Molly greeted warmly, "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. For everything." Andromeda's eyes flickered towards Draco for a second, and then she finally turned to look at him properly, "Draco. I don't think we've ever been introduced. I am your aunt Andromeda."

"Hello." He said stiffly. She held out her hand, which he took nervously, and they shook briefly.

"Well, now that he's here, I think it'd be best if I left." Molly said nervously, "Draco, I'll pick you up from here at nine this evening."

He nodded, and watched her disappear back into the fire. Then he turned back to his Aunt, who seemed to be evaluating him.

"You're a lot like you're father." She told him, with something like distaste in her voice, "But you have some of my sister in you too. She always valued good looks, so I imagine she was quite pleased with you."

Draco was shocked to hear her talk like that. She made it sound so...trivial. Didn't she realise that this was Narcissa's funeral?

"My mother..." He began, but she cut him off.

"Come on, we have to be going. Nymphodora is waiting for us, we're all going together. You haven't met my daughter have you? She's an Auror." Andromeda even spoke like Narcissa, the same sort of detached interest. But then she looked him in the eyes, and there was a flash of sympathy, "There will be many friends of your mother there, people you already know. You won't be amongst strangers."

They made their way to a main chamber, where a young woman stood. She had medium length dead straight black hair, dark brown eyes, and a small, pretty face. She wore black clothes, and dark makeup.

"Is that how you're going Nymphodora?" Andromeda asked, looking her over. This, apparently, was Draco's cousin.

"I don't see why not, black is what you wear for funerals." She reminded her mother.

"Yes, but it's a bit...extreme." The older woman said reproachfully, "Not very respectful."

"Mum...Oh ok." Nymphodora sighed, and then scrunched up her face. When she opened her eyes again, her makeup was gone, her hair was blonde and slightly wavy, and her eyes were a greyish blue. She looked a lot like her mother, and slightly like Draco, "Is that better?"

"Much." Andromeda smiled approvingly. Draco couldn't stop himself gaping at his cousin.

"How did you do that?" He asked, amazed.

"I'm a metamorph." She explained, turning to look at him, "You must be Draco."

"Yes." He nodded.

"I'm Tonks." She told him. He looked quizzically at Andromeda, who sighed.

"Honestly, there is nothing wrong with the name Nymphodora!"

"It gives people the wrong idea about me." Tonks sulked.

"And what idea would that be?" Andromeda asked.

"Never mind." The younger woman muttered, "Shouldn't we be going?"

"Yes, I suppose we should. Are you ready Draco?" She asked, and he nodded mutely, still in awe of his cousin. His mother had mentioned her disowned sister once or twice, but never told him his cousin was a metamorph! When he was younger, he used to have fantasies about finding out that he was a metamorph, and he'd change into his father and take part in all the things he wasn't allowed to.

"Then let's go." They walked over to another fire place, and, after sprinkling on a little Floo Powder, stepped into the flames.

III

After arriving back home, Molly had started on lunch, and had not been able to sit down at all. Every time she did, she would immediately stand back up again, as though burnt.

"Stop fretting." Arthur sighed after a while, "He'll be fine, he's with family."

"But he's never met them before today!" She cried, clearly distressed, "And he's going to have to face a lot of his class mates parents! And they'll go home, and tell their children that he's living with Weasley's, and that they're not to associate themselves with him anymore, and he'll be all alone, and-"

"You're babbling Mum." Ron snapped after a while, "Don't worry about Malfoy, he'll ferret his way out of this. He'll just tell them that he's gathering information on Dumbledore for You-Know-Who."

"Ron!" Molly admonished, "Draco is a kind sweet boy, who has gone through hell over the last few weeks. Now, I've seen the two of you get along, I heard you joking at this very table less than a week ago, so you have no excuse to be so cruel. Harry and Hermione will be here in a few weeks, and I know you'll want to fall back into your old habit of ganging up against Draco. But if you even dare say one word to the poor boy, I'll-"

"I think Ron understands." Arthur said hastily, "Don't you Ron?"

"Yeah." Ron sulked.

"Ginny's civil to him." Molly pointed out, "I don't see why you can't be."

"I just feel...sorry for him." Ginny mumbled, under Ron's glare. She had so far managed to stay out of this argument, "He's not evil, not like his dad. But he would have been, if he'd stayed with him. I think we've got to him in time."

"God, what is this, the 'we love Draco Malfoy' house?" Ron sighed, "Never mind, I don't care anymore. I can't wait to see how he betrays us all."

And with that, Ron stood up and stormed out of the room, leaving a seething mother.

"Don't worry about it Mum." Ginny said soothingly, "He's been writing to Harry and Hermione, and they've got him all riled up about this. But I've written to Hermione, and I think she's starting to understand, and she'll calm Ron down about all this. As for Harry? Well, maybe she can make him see reason too."

"You're being very mature about this Ginny." Arthur observed.

"I...talked to Draco the other night." She admitted, "He still needs a lot more help then he'll admit, but he's not being as proud as he used to be. He's not like I thought he was."

"To be honest, I think he's still in shock about everything." Molly said quietly, finally sitting down, "He's being so quiet and polite, and, well...that's just not him. I like him, you know I do, but I've heard enough stories to know what he's like. When he thinks something, he says it. I'm sure he's been thinking a great many things since he got here, but he hasn't said a word."

"I think, perhaps," Arthur said slowly, "that a shock was what Draco needed. He now knows the world isn't a place that is going to bend over backwards to give him what he wants. And perhaps that's all it will take to bring out the good in him."

"You could be right." Molly agreed. Ginny was silent. She, personally, thought that Draco needed more than one shock to set him straight. But she was also fairly confident that the Weasley house could provide that.

Her thoughts were interrupted when someone quite unexpected walked in the kitchen door.

III

The Temple of the Dead was the most expensive resting ground in the Wizarding World. It was, of course, unplottable, and had a million and one anti-muggle charms on it. It was where the elite were buried when their time came, and Narcissa Malfoy was defiantly one of the elite.

It seemed to Draco that at first, people tried to avoid him and his Aunt and cousin. There was something about Andromeda and Tonks that said 'we are not the type of people who would ever be buried here'. But, eventually, people started to recognise him, and would shimmy over to whisper their condolences, give Tonks an odd look, and then shimmy away.

"You'd think they'd never seen a Half Blood before." She muttered darkly, shaking her head. Draco stiffened for a moment, and then turned to look at Nymphodora Tonks.

"Half Blood?" He asked, confused. There was a silence, where both his Aunt and cousin turned to look at him, surprise in their eyes.

"Did your mother never tell you why I was disowned?" Andromeda asked, and Draco shook his head, "I married a Muggle Born, Ted Tonks."

He looked at a now very awkward looking Tonks, who shuffled slightly, "You're a Half Blood?"

"Yes." She said defiantly, although still looking awkward, "Well, technically anyway. I'm not Pure Blood."

But she was a Metamorph! Surely only Pure Bloods can be Metamorphs, Mudbloods not having enough power in their blood. But she stood before him, looking so very much like his own mother, her chin up defiantly, with a power Draco had wished so many times to posses.

"I was disowned because I fell in love." Andromeda whispered, "Bellatrix had laughed when mother burnt my name from the Black Family Tapestry in front of the whole family, but your mother, Narcissa, had looked sad. We had always got on, in a round about way. Bella had always been just a bit too mean for the both of us. She helped me pack my bags to leave, and tried to convince me the entire time that I could change my mind. She insisted Ted wasn't good enough for me, that I'd be miserable with him. She had been wrong, but I still hold the sentiment dear. Ted and I are very happy together, and I've never regretted my actions, except that it caused me to loose contact with your mother."

Draco could see it too. Two young women, packing a bag, the older one trying to convince the younger to stay. He knew how his mother was with arguments. She would go from being angry, to sorrowful, and then to bitter, and then back to sorrowful. But the younger girl would just shake her head, and continue packing, before walking out of the house. Maybe a young man would be waiting for her, a man with a round face, like Tonk's. And his mother would watch from the window, because she loved sentimental drama. And then, the girl would look back, and see the figure of her sister in the window, and maybe burst out crying, but still walk on. Draco couldn't help himself.

"Did you cry when you saw her standing in the window, watching you go?" He asked. She looked surprised, and then smiled slightly.

"You know your mother well." She shook her head, "I refused to look back, because I knew she's be standing there. She loved drama, but I hated it."

"Oh." There was nothing else really to say. A few more people came to announce how sorry they were, before everyone took their seat.

It might have surprised Draco how similar Muggle and Wizarding funeral services where. A priest of sorts would lecture about how everyone had a time, and then a friend or family member would speak about them, and then everyone it attendance would sing the Song of the Dead.

Draco recognised the priest; it was the same one who had spoken at his Grandmother's funeral. It had only been a few years ago. Now he was speaking for the old lady's daughter.

After a while a small man sidled up to them and whispered in Andromeda's ear. She looked surprised, and there was a moment of urgent whispering, before she sighed and nodded. The small man sidled away.

"What's wrong?" He whispered.

"Elle Parkinson was supposed to speak after the priest, but she's been arrested." Andromeda explained, "I'm afraid one of us is going to have to speak for your mother."

"You'll have to do it." He told her quickly, but she shook her head.

"Look around Draco. Apart from Nymphodora, everyone here is Pure Blood. I married a Muggle Born. If I stand up to speak, they are likely to walk out."

"Can's someone else do it, please?" He begged, but again his aunt shook her head, "There's no one else. This is your mother's last goodbye. It's fitting that you'll be the one to lead it."

There was no adequate argument for this, and he nodded slowly. While the Priest finished off with the formalities, Draco thought furiously for something to say.

"And now, a friend of the deceased will speak." The Priest said, but the small man was beside him, whispering in his ear, "Oh, my mistake. A family member will speak." He looked down at the first row, where Andromeda pointedly indicated to Draco, "Draco Malfoy, I believe."

Draco stood up, and made his way to the raised stand. The Priest stepped back, and allowed him to step up, onto it.

There was a reason the elite used the Temple of the Dead for their funerals. The elite had many friends and well wishers, and only a Temple this big could hold them all. Draco looked out at the room, which was filled with people looking up at him, and cleared his voice nervously.

"I wasn't expecting to speak today." He explained shakily, "So this may not come out very well. My mother was, well, many things. To me, firstly, she was a mother. Sometimes I was short sighted enough to think that that was all she was. But I was wrong. Some of you will have seen her as the loving wife; many of you will have experienced her as a friend. One of you will even have known her as a sister. But that's just what she was to other people."

That had been easy. He had planned all that out while the priest had been talking. But, from now on, he was making it up as he went along.

"She was...a lot within herself too. She was good at judging a person's worth, and good at seeing people's real feelings, no matter how hide you tried to hide them. She'd always know if I was lying to her. She loved being with people. She had a clear set of morals, and she stuck to them. Maybe those morals weren't the same as everyone else's, but in that way, she was a lot like me." He was beginning to flounder; he was running out of thing's he new about his own mother, "She was loyal too. She would never hear a bad word against any of her friends."

It was impossible to tell what the people watching his where thinking. But what was worse was that he was starting to think he might cry.

"She was good at making me feel better." He said slowly, "I'd go to her if I was angry, and she'd calm me down. She was always good with people. But...a lot of this is still just what she was to other people. She never really let me know much about who she really was. She had a room to herself at home, and sometimes she'd go in there and lock the door. She'd be gone for hours, and I never knew what she was doing. I suppose I don't really know that much about my mother." He looked up, and tried to look like he was looking each and every one of the people in front of him in the eye, "But I do know that she'd have been pleased that you all turned up to say goodbye to her. So...thank you for that."

There was a silence before they realised he was finished, and there was the quiet clapping you always got at funerals. Reddening, he got down from the stand, and went back to his seat.

"That was very nicely said Draco." Andromeda assured him, and he smiled weakly at her.

"You're crying." Tonks whispered.

"No I'm not." He said hastily, hid hand flying to his face.

"Well, ok, but there's a tissue here if you need it." He took it, and wiped his eyes hastily. Then they stood up, and sung the Song of the Dead.

It was in Latin, and his father had made him translate it once. In the song, you told your ancestors to clear the path, because one of their descendants was coming to join them. It had been lost slightly in translation, but Draco felt much more at home with songs when he knew what he was singing.

When the last notes of the song died away, the Temple began to empty. On his way out Draco was stopped quite a few times by people telling him he had done well in his speech. He was patted on the back a few times, which he didn't mind too much. What he did mind was the one thing they all said.

"We heard that you're staying with the...er...Weasley's now. Nice family, nice family. We'd have taken you in too, except we're a little short on room."

Or sometimes it was that they were having some trouble with money, or that 'our Ira is going through a bit of a difficult phase'. They all had excuses, but they all assured him they really would have loved to take him in.

"I hate it." He told Andromeda once they were outside, "The Weasley's are as poor as dirt, and barely have enough room for themselves in their home but they took me in. They have no excuse."

"None." Andromeda agreed, and sighed, "But don't judge them too harshly. Taking on a child that isn't your own is not something you do lightly."

"I suppose." He nodded.

"Everyone's leaving." Tonks told them, watching people disappear into the fires.

"There's an after party at The Griffin's Tail." Andromeda explained, "Do you want to go Draco?"

"Are you going?" He asked.

"No." She told him, "I came to say my goodbyes, and now I have."

"Then I just want to go home." He told her, and then stiffened.

"I assume that, by home, you mean the Weasley's?" His Aunt asked, a smile on her face.

"Yes, I suppose I do." He admitted reluctantly.

"Then let's go." They walked over to a free fire place, and took some Floo Powder. Before Draco took the powder, he turned to Tonks.

"Can you learn to be a metamorph?" He asked.

"Sorry, no." She told him shrugging, "You're either born with it or not."

"Yeah. I wish I'd been born with it." He told her.

"Strangely enough, it's a gift mainly present in Half Bloods." Andromeda told him, much to his surprise.

"It didn't say that in any of the books!" He exclaimed.

"That," Tonks whispered darkly, "is because most the books are written by Pure Bloods."

But then she smiled, and once again Draco felt himself begin to like someone he wasn't quite prepared to like yet.

"You'd better be off." Andromeda told him, and held out a hand to shake, "It was nice meeting you Draco. I just wish the circumstances could have been better."

He nodded and took her hand, before turning to the fire, throwing the Floo Powder in, and stepping in himself.

"The Weasley's Burrow!" He said clearly, and watched as the forms of his Aunt and cousin disappeared from sight. He closed his eyes tightly, and when he opened them again, he found himself in the Weasley kitchen.

"Draco, you're back!" Molly exclaimed, standing up. She had been sitting at the table with Arthur, the twins, Ron and Ginny.

"Yes, I am." He nodded, looking around. He did a quick headcount, and realised something was wrong. There was someone else at the Weasley table. It was a young man, with red hair and freckles. Draco had never seen him before in his life, but there was only one person it could be.

It looked like Charlie Weasley had come early.

III

Yay! The chapter is finished! This has to be the longest time it's ever taken me to write a chapter! Well, it's done now, so please review!

Thanks to:

Kellalor: I'm working on the next chapter, it should be up soon. Thanks for the interest!

Amyro Maniac: Thanks, as before, working on the new chapter.

DreamGurl-de-Draco: Longer chapters? faints with exhaustion

Sunflour: isn't it fun, having emotionally disturbed characters?

Catmint: I think I'm being a bit too slow to get that pixie stick! I'm very grateful for the Fizzing Whizbee though! I'm glad you don't think they're out of character, I'm trying really hard!

I-Wrote-A-New-Story: In English football there is tackling, it's just different to American football tackling. I live opposite a football stadium and have a football obsessed family, so I'm regularly told all about it, although I have no interest in it ï Anyway, thanks for the help all the same. I'm sure I am making a million mistakes.

Arily: Thanks, It's great to be appreciated.

SiLvErStInG04: He he, silly you. Well, you'll have a brand spanking new chapter soon, if I ever get round to finishing it!

Someonelse: I love Bill and Charlie, and I think they're such underused characters.

readingfreak742: Yeah, my "angle" is that Draco's in too much shock to try to fight the Weasley's, and by the time he starts to revert back to normal, well...Guess!


End file.
